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Hells Gate 1 (1) PDF Flipbook PDF

Hells Gate 1 (1) PDF


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Hells Gate SSP Manzini

I snapped up to the sweet sounds of a rock band you don’t know. If I didn't love my smartsnyth mobile or the band, I would have introduced the phone to high impact and dry wall, but all I could manage was a groan, muffled by my pillow and my right hand searching the bed. I always managed to fall asleep with it in hand. Nature of my business. I peered at the too bright screen and sat the hell up real fast. Rice. She had my number. I had hers. We never called. Either she was drunk, high, or stuck on top of some high ass building with no way to get down. Scratch the last one, she would dive off just to dry her hair. I pushed to answer. "Stoni." There was a huff of breath. "No, Rice." I rolled my eyes. She was on the horn, with me, and she had time to joke. "No kidding Sherlock. Press the wrong button or something?" "Or something. Speed dial one in fact." That left me speechless for a second. Rice, was not only calling me, she had me on speed dial. I had to ask, "What kind of shit's hit the fan?" There was a slight pause. "The kind I need your help with." I fell back on my pillow. Chicago was Rice town. She ruled the preternatural there with an iron fist and shitkickers for emphasis. I never had to go there for anything but deep dish pizza and hot dogs. God knows I don't especially miss the constant drama. I was afraid to ask. "What in th-" a commotion cut me off, a grunt, a high scream, a wet plopping sound and Rice came back on. "Sorry about that, just dispatching a head off of its shoulders. Will you come?" I didn't even blink. I pulled the same stunts every day, except maybe not on the phone. "Yeah. I'll come." "Bring some heat. Your kind of heat." Shit, shit, shit! That meant I would end up bloody and bruised by sun down. I groaned. Rice chuckled. "There goes another head. Hate to rush you, but if you could get here yesterday? I might live to see tomorrow. Go to Ian." Then she was gone. Go to Ian indeed. Fuck. ************************* I pulled on my favorite jeans, ninety-percent stretch. All the better to drop kick you in my dear. Grabbed an underground metal band back stage t-shirt, I have a whole closet of those. My goody bag was packed. Always packed. Never knew when I would have to go out and dispense a little bloody justice. I strapped the Katana to my back, matt black, with a wail like a siren, the extension of my arm and my will, my Weeper. I settled my P229sport magnum in the shoulder rig and my modified Desert Eagles into my thigh holsters. Gave the warehouse I called home one last look and walked out. By the sounds of things, I needed to get to Chicago fast, so I called my father. If Rice didn't need me, I would have forgone the call for a few decades or so. I threw a leg over the Ducati 848 EVO and speed dialed him on the com link. I did not bother wasting any pleasantries on him. "Have the jet fueled and ready to go. Chicago. " There was a brief silence. So very telling. He knew what was going on down there. "My precious daughter. Fruit of my l-"

"Can it Bran. All I want is the jet. Either you get it ready, or I can ask MacShire." Course I know he'd rather face the sun then let me go to the old man MacShire. I had no doubt he was angry. I've learned to interpret my father’s silences. It was the only way to survive until I was strong enough to take him on. "It will be ready. Once you return, we will speak." Oh joy. At the least he had faith I would return. "Yeah. Sure." I disengaged and burned rubber. I'm coming Rice. †

It was something past two pm and Marla was looking forward to passing out with the leather blinds pulled shut. Stoni's idea. Vampires. Not that Stoni was anything as simple as a vampire. No sir. Not that one. Wouldn't that would be a hoot. That would be like someone calling Marla a vodoun priestess. Understatement. She had just come back from an out of city bounty hunt. The werewolf was more dead than alive, and she would have to deal with the pack, but the mutt had gone fang and well ... She had gone bang with silver buck shot. Messy. If this kept up, she would have no wardrobe by month end. She looked down at her bellbottom's. Aww hell. And her sky blue platforms were just as bloody. Where the hell would she find them again? These were vintage! The prenats had been acting up the last couple of months. The weres were fanging out, the vampires were draining donors. She had heard a thrall got fang banged, that alone was worrisome. Vampires had more control than that. Much more. She wondered if Stoni was having the same problems. "Why the fuck am I thinking about her?" She wondered out loud shaking her head. Frowned. Maybe the Loa were trying to say something. She hadn't been focusing lately. Kicking ass in the morning, taking names and shit. "Damn job's going to be the death of me. I'm a friggin' flower child for Samedi's sake!" She pulled out her Android and put a call through to the Wild Lupe Pack secretary. She knew they knew, she was at the gate, the mutt, Peter Sylvan, was bleeding like a stuck pig and the weres made blood hounds look like they had no skill. They could smell them and knew he was shot up. If he didn't get the silver out, he was dead or maybe he was dead anyway, Gabriel Mikhail, no angel by any means of the word, would tear him apart. He had mangled a waitress and ran. Pack policy was that he would be put down. Like any rabid dog. Gabriel was the Alpha. And this Alpha took no prisoners. Marla would know. He wanted a mate and she was it. He wasn't giving her much in the way of options. Not if she wanted live in Chicago anyway, and a Marie never runs. Marla was the best of the Maries. Which explained why she was sometimes the pack enforcer. It allowed her to discipline the pack members who needed it without Gabes input and it proved she was a dominant. Capable of being the Alpha mate. "Wild Lupe Pack. Caroline speaking." "Cari. Marla. Tell the Alpha to collect his mutt." Caroline growled low in anger. Marla could only laugh at that. "Listen you xenophobic bitch. Get him, out here. Now." Caroline hissed, furious – "I hope you do become Alpha mate bitch. I'll rip you apart then." Marla laughed again. Not like anything was fun. Loa fury rode her tone. "You and who's army Caroline?" She backed her voice with dominance, "Get Gabe out here. Now."

The wolf whined in submission. Marla clicked the Android off. She'd never used dominance on any of Gabes wolves. Looked like there was something going on with the prenats. Even she was feeling it. She would have to seek the Loa. Something just wasn't right. She leaned back, against the old trucks steel body, arms crossed and watched as Gabriel came toward her, the estate gates rolling apart. So okay, he was an excellent specimen, all wolves were. Thing is, this big fellow was just different. Captain America stuff. Hoo boy. He didn't walk, exactly. He sort of ... prowled, and she'd be damned if she didn't like it. "Marla, Marla. What did you do to my secretary Mate?" She looked down at her shoes. Bloody shoes, and mumbled something. "What's was that mate?" "I am so not your mate." She glared. He smiled easily at her. "You enforce my laws, you have cooked for me. You just pulled dominance. What are you if not my mate?" "Momentary weakness? Um ... Look. Peter. Yup. He needs help." Gabe looked at her, a knowing smile playing in his eyes, then he jerked his head up and howled into the bruised sky. The Call. Even she felt the pull. The pack came. On fours and twos. Beast and man form. Gabe pointed to her rusted red Chevy truck. She spotted Jamison, Gabriels right hand, her nemesis. He wasn't exactly pro cross breading. They took Peter out. Off to Baron knows where. Her job was done, but he was still looking at her. And Marla really minded how good that made her feel. "I will come for you ... Mate. When the healing is done and punishment met." The last part made her shiver. Gabe gently ran his finger down from her brow to the tip of her nose, he twisted in an explosive move and then ran. Lycanthrope fast. The fastest she had ever seen. Gabriel Mikhail was powerful. She got into her truck and got the hell out of dodge. The farther she kept away from that man, the better. *************************** She had gotten home, stood under a broiling shower, ate a mix of left overs and passed out on the bed. Sans clothes. Gabe would have approved. She slept eight hours straight. Waking up to a black sky and distant panic. Something was wrong. She rolled out of bed. Put on music. Drums rose up in a primal beat. Technology made raising the Loa easy. She needed answers. If what she was feeling was any margin, she needed them fast. She moved to her chalked circle. It wasn't Iwa that she practiced necessarily, but a hybrid of sorcery. And so, she began with Asagwe, dancing to honor the Loa gods, falling into Avalou as she prepared to ask for answers. What made her special was that she was not bound to one Loa god, she called and drew upon them all. That's what you get when your mother was the most powerful Mambo in generations and your father was a Loa avatar. With the Loa Baron Samedi full force in him when you were conceived. Marla called on Ogoun. He liked politics, which meant he was always informed. He came upon her so fast, riding her and she resisted, fought him as hard as she could and got knocked out for her troubles. Waking up an hour later, she had her answers and full blown panic. Shit had just hit an industrial sized fan and Chicago was ground zero. She barely gave getting dressed a thought. Bellbottom's. Puma sneakers and her favorite tree hugger t-shirt. Always made people laugh. Killers don't hug trees much. She pulled on her hamon patterned blades. Blessed by a Monk, a Bhudist and priest. To give them edge, you know? Then she called Gabriel. He had to know, he didn’t waste time questioning her. She liked that in a man. Next, she called Ian. Leader of the Chicago coven. His phone rang twice "This is Ian." She closed her eyes. She was not alone. "Ian. Marla. The Seal is broken." She heard him gasp. There was a slight scrape. He probably needed to sit.

"How? How do you know? It can't-" "It can and it is. The demons are coming. This is the first seal. We prepare. We ride. It can still be contained. Raise the coven. The pack comes. I ... I will call upon the vampires." That gave him pause. He knew she didn't deal well with vampires. But this was big. Bigger than her pet peeves. Besides, Stoni wasn't a vampire ... Exactly. She was something ... "Yes. Go Marla. We will come." And so she went. Armed with blades and a flame thrower. The first demons out would be the weakest. They were susceptible to fire. When she arrived at the Seal, the silence was bone chilling and then the wails began. Death recognizes death and she was her father’s daughter. They came in two’s, she could handle that, her smile was fierce, like the slashing of a blade in the dark, sharp. She swung the tanto and began loping heads off. Pulled the Android out and speed dialed one. "Stoni." Marla smiled, huffing a breath, "No, Rice." "No kidding Sherlock. Press the wrong button or something?" Made her smile again. Stoni. "Or something. Speed dial one in fact." She knew that would surprise her. "What kind of shit's hit the fan?" Marla paused for a second. "The kind I need your help with." She knew Stoni would get it. She never asked for, nor needed help. "What in th-" Marla sprung up, twisted counter clockwise and crunched the blade to a neck. High scream. "Sorry about that, just dispatching a head off of its shoulders. Will you come?" "Yeah. I'll come." "Bring some heat. Your kind of heat." She puffed out a laugh as another demon made a flying tackle. "There goes another head. Hate to rush you, but if you could get here yesterday? I might live to see tomorrow. Go to Ian." And she clicked the phone off. Crooked her fingers with a smile. "Let's dance hell spawn. I need the practice." †

Chicago. The Chi. She was here at last. Stoni hit the ground running. She had felt something in the world go wrong. Something break. A pathway open, and the sucker felt like it was growing. A highway maybe, but to where? All she knew was that Marla was right in the middle of it. That scared her. And Stoni don't do scared, but today, today she was scared and pissed. Fact, she'd felt a seal to something break. Why? Why had she felt it? "What the hell am I?" She muttered as she crouched down, black tipped index fingers to the hot sticky tar, time slowed down and ether blew through her hair, her braid coming undone like always when she used force. Black tendrils floated about her face like a kelp forest deep in the ocean. Her eyes dimmed black, then flashed orange. A finding. Marla. She was in the Lincoln Park and she wasn't alone. Daemon spawn. Stoni closed her eyes as her body rippled to a stand, behind her eyelids she found the local interspatial paths, she reached into the dark, grabbed a pathway, Lichtenberg figure like patterns coiled across her mind and she Slipped. Interspatial pathways are local, and somehow end at the boundary of each city. Even then, the Slips turn into jumps because they interlink and you have to take a new one until you reach your destination. Not so with Stoni, she could bend all local interspace. Taking her exactly where she wanted to go. "Because I am a bad ass motherfucker." She whispered, a hard grin on her face and stepped out onto Lincoln Park already flowing into Twimyo Chagi. Taekwondo flying kick. Bone crunched under her steel tipped shit kickers, her hand drew Weeper from the sheath strapped to her

shoulder and time almost stood still. The smile on her face was feral. Daemons surged into action again. "Oh now hello ugly, let me introduce your neck to this here edge" And she swept into a leaping Katana slash, head off a demon. Turned into a grand jete, arm extend to Wakizashi, forward thrust, daemon back. Score. "Oh yeah." A half-turned werewolf howled. Wolfman. "Who. The. Hell. Are. You?" He growled, cutting a daemon in half with his claw tipped hand. Stoni flashed him a smile. "Good question. Let you know when I know." And stepped onto his knee, shoulder, dived off swinging Weeper. Clean through daemon neck, misty cloud of blood. Another daemon down. "But meanwhile wolf boy, watch your back." She grinned again. Grabbed interspatial, nanopathed to his right, Weeper side way stroked into another daemon. He rumbled a joyful sound. "Why? You seem to be watching it better." He jumped into a somersault, twisting over her to land on a daemon. "Alright, disembowelment." He blew out a laugh. "You are a sick, blood hungry woman. Let's makes this our first date." Stoni laughed. "Don't do dogs." He growled, putting a fist through another hell spawn. "Discriminating is against the law." Mock anger. "And I break just about any law I can cross." Fist snap into Seiken Zuki, body punch, the daemon doubled over Stoni swung Weeper down, neck strike. "Damn woman. Let's just get married." He leapt and three-sixtied a daemon. "Nice. Tai roundhouse? Think you just kicked a daemon to death." He flashed white canines. "Jealous?" "Huh, my one tooth is bigger than all of yours. And I'm not jeal-" Mae-geri, front kick "-ous. Just. Envious." He stopped moving. "Bigger tooth?" Stoni interlocked her katana, Weeper with her wakizashi, Wailer. " Bigger." Opened her inter lock onto two daemons. More puffs of blood. A drop landed onto her exposed hand and she interspaced involuntary. "Oh shit." Stepped out next to Marla Marie and paused. "My Marla , that's a big daemon you have there. A baby Sloth is it?" Marla nanospaced. "Dammit Stoni! Wear a goddammened bell or something!" Stoni snickered. "Yeah okay, sure. So. Sloth huh?" The Daemon flicked out his second tongue. Looked sharply at Stoni. "Brethren. You fight against us?" Stoni, "What. The. Fuck?" Marla, "Shit." "What the hell do you mean brethren?" Stoni asked in a velvet voice. Marla twirled her silver tipped rowan shillelagh. "That Daemon, is the voice of death. She's going to kill you now ... What he actually means Stoni ... is that we are taking him hostage. Because he just made a million dollar statement." In panic, the daemon made a running jump toward them and Stoni nanospaced. Landed behind the daemon chanting, "Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel. Bind this daemon. Hold this circle. By air, by fire, by wind and by earth. Amen." Marla stood just beyond the circle, with her arms folded across her chest, "See what I mean? That's witchcraft mixed with divinity. What the hell is that?" Stoni looked heaven ward. "No more daemons to kill Marla?". "Nope. Weres are finishing them off. And this guy, he's going to answer some questions now. Looks pretty petrified though. Think he'll talk?"

"Oh yeah. Oh yeah, he'll talk." "Poor daemon" "Um. Sides Marla?" "Right. Yours." "Want to be the bad guy?" Marla grinned. "Why yes, yes I do. You are a good friend, great friend even. My own personal hero" "I try." †